Of Lionesses and Little Rams
by Designation Kik
Summary: About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was an idiot with a death wish, as well as some strange aversion to self-preservation. Second, his scent was intoxicating and I kind of really wanted to kill him. And third, I loved him. Heaven help us all, I loved him. AU, Human Edward x Vampire Bella. Rated for safety.
1. Our Father ::PreTwilight::

Not even gonna pretend to have an excuse for my other stories anymore lol. At this point, I follow where my muse takes me. _Like Breathing_ comes and goes as it pleases. I'm currently doing a sweeping re-write for _Equilibrium_ so the current version will be scrapped soon. Most of you don't know or care what I'm talking about, which is probably best lol.

More relevantly, this was originally supposed to be a full-fledged story that went through the entire series swapping Edward and Bella, but seeing as everyone already knows exactly what happens, that seemed like a waste of time. So instead, I think I'll do these little snapshots from important scenes and events. Depending on how well it goes, I may even take prompts. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. And, I don't own anything within the Twilight Universe.

* * *

**Italy, 1917**

"You seem to find them younger and younger as the years pass, my friend. And yet, never too young."

There was a peal of easy, delighted laughter. "I like to think that I have a knack for finding my special ones when they are in their peak. Fate brings them to me when they are ready."

A lower, more muted chuckle answered. "How old is this one?"

"Isabella is eighteen. You'll see, however, that she is a charming, smart girl, smarter than the average child her age. The ideas she deigns to share with me are fascinating."

_Padre nostro che sei nei cieli. _

This time, instead of well-placed laughter, silence stretched a second too long. The stranger was confused. Master was pleased. He always was when he was able to inspire deviations from the script. "That she _deigns_ to share? Is that your new obsession? To deny yourself and experience another in the normal way? With respect, Aro, I don't expect your patience to last very long. I know how much you love collecting."

"Ah, and therein, my dear Carlisle, lies the bulk of her charm. She continues to confound me, to confound all of us really." His glee was sickening.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"She is immune to our powers, Carlisle. Every one of them."

_Sia santificato il tuo Nome._

He showed her off because of the silence that followed, the awe, the disbelief. He let her live because of it. "Where does she come from?"

"As far as I can tell some village in Sicily. Her parents had horrid, farmers' accents. The girl's Italian is quite precise, however. Pleasant even."

"What happened to them? Her parents, I mean."

_Venga il tuo Regno._

She wanted not to listen, but listening was the only thing that helped. She wanted to forget herself so that Master's smooth, careless tone couldn't shoot her through with grief so completely, but holding herself tightly was the only way. She could remember the dogs and the great parade of noise they made when she walked up the lane at twilight. She could think of Master's hair, so beautiful, so fine. It reminded her of a painting she had seen once of Adamo and Eva and Lucifero. It was imperative that she remember these things, that she hold them up high, so that she could hide her own thoughts away in a corner of her mind, as far away from her as she could manage.

_Sia fatta la tua Volontà._

"All three of them were meant to be meals, but when Jane couldn't affect her— you know how she likes to play with her food— I decided to keep her instead. The parents weren't nearly so interesting. The mother did have a good taste to her, though."

_Come in cielo così in terra._

"This is all very interesting, Aro, but I'm not sure what it has to do with me," the stranger said finally.

"Well, it has to do with those ideas of hers. For example, you probably have noticed that she is quite listless for a newborn. You see, the girl keeps the oddest of diets." There was a shifting sound that meant that Master had bid the stranger to draw closer, to look. She was supposed to look up. If she didn't look up, she would be made to look up. They couldn't touch her through her mind and their hands were not practiced in gentleness. So, she tilted her head up so that a slash of fading sunlight fell across her face. The stranger's face was framed by the iron bars on her door. They could have been made of straw for all of the good they did keeping her in. But they served well as a warning. Golden hair. Perfect features. Smooth, pale skin. There was nothing interesting in the stranger's face. But then, she met his eyes, his wide, compassionate and tawny-gold eyes. The stranger reeled back slightly as he met her eyes. That had not happened before.

_Dacci oggi il nostro pane quotidiano._

"Aro, are you _starving_ this girl?" Shock. A hint of outrage.

"Please, Carlisle. I admit, I may never be known as a particularly benevolent ruler, but neither am I cruel."

Master had pawed her mother's chest while he drained her life away. Master's brother had drunk from her father's leg and let him claw at his own flesh as he attempted to break away, until he was too weak and lay quietly. Master's guards had made her watch, let her scream, before Master himself clamped his teeth down on her right hand. Master had let her live.

_E rimetti a noi i nostri debiti._

"Then why is she—"

"She is starving herself. The girl goes weeks without feeding and then works herself into a frenzy, practically _gorging_ herself." She could still see the stranger's face. She didn't understand why she wanted to keep looking. He didn't seem amused by the news, not like the others had been. He didn't look confused either. He looked in awe. And heartbroken. "Now, now, don't look so alarmed. She is due to break her odd protest again any day now. I'm careful not to let her deny herself _too _much."

He only sent her families and he gathered the guard outside of her door when he did it. It was possible that distress would weaken her defenses and they might be able to penetrate her mind. They all watched and pondered and filled her room with bleeding wives and fathers and children and she killed them all before taking the blood because she couldn't bear the thought of anyone ever having to watch as she did.

_Come noi li rimettiamo ai nostri debitori._

"Aro… why have you told me all of this?"

At this, Master laughed and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "Forgive me, dear friend. Of course you would understand quickly that this is more than just my own vanity." There was a click, _the_ click, the sound of her door being opened. She flew to the far corner, pressing her back against the wall, trying to make herself small. She stopped her breathing, she closed her eyes, she did all she could to maybe stop it happening again, all the while knowing that it would happen again and again and again, forever.

_E non ci indurre in tentazione._

"I will not, at this time, give you the information you seek, but, if I may, I'd like to make you a present of this newborn. Never before have I seen two spirits made for one another so completely. It burdens me to see her harm herself so. If there is anyone who can ease her soul, Carlisle, it is you."

This time, the stunned silence was twice as heavy, as she and the stranger gaped. The stranger's mouth flopped open, snapped closed, and then he reached out to offer Master his hand, his thoughts. Master smiled and accepted the touch, holding still for a moment before his smile grew. He bowed, silently, and left the room. She stared. Was it that easy for her to be bought and sold? She made her eyes hard and watched as the stranger stared at Master as he retreated and then sighed. He approached her slowly and stopped when he was still a few feet away, out of arm's reach, kneeling down so that his face was level with hers. Now that he was closer, his strange eyes dazzled her, as did the compassion shining through them. He smiled kindly at her and spoke in quiet, unaccented Italian.

"Good evening, Isabella. My name is Carlisle Cullen. Your name is Isabella, isn't it?" She didn't answer. His smile dimmed and then grew in some other dimension, becoming small, sad, and so very patient. "Not all of us are suited for life among the Volturi. I wasn't." Still, she did not answer, but this time, he seemed to be expecting her silence. "Isabella, what would you say if I told you I could teach you to hunt every night and drink your fill, so that you are not in pain, without harming a single human being?"

_Ma liberaci._

"I have met countless liars since dying. And countless brutes too. Why should I believe that you are any different?"

"I suppose, you'll have to trust me."

She gave him a withering look. "You just bought me from the man who murdered my parents," she said flatly.

Carlisle didn't insult her by denying it or nodding or indicating in any way that he would assume to understand what she was feeling and she found herself liking him more for it. Instead, he only stood and offered her his hand.

"If you agree to come with me, I will take you away from here. You will never have to see these people, or hurt another being ever again. I will not force you to do anything you don't want to do and I will not hurt you. I swear this to you, Isabella."

"Don't call me that."

If Carlisle was confused by her answer, he didn't have time to show it, because she had slid her slim hand into his wide one and allowed him to help her up.

"Call me Bella."

_Dal Male._


	2. Homecoming ::Twilight::

Good afternoon, everyone! Thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy. :)_  
_

* * *

_Homecoming_

On the way to my new life, a child on the plane got lost. The search (which I found overly frantic considering the circumstances) lasted about ten minutes before they found the little girl hiding from her parents a few rows back. The child screamed in delight when they found her, threw up, and fell asleep. The incident was a perfect analogy for what life in my new home would inevitably be like. Overly dramatic, extremely irritating, and, in the end, just another bad story.

Charlie Swan was my mother's brother, a few years younger with her chestnut hair and dark brown eyes exactly, but without her inherent grace. I tried not to admit to myself how much it hurt to look at him while he inhaled his breakfast. Charlie didn't know a thing about cooking. My mother had always joked that he would live on frozen pizzas and PB&Js if we let him. This morning I had demonstrated my mastery of bacon and eggs . Charlie seemed to appreciate it. "You're all set for lunch," he said in between chewing, "and that lawyer lady called to say that your bank account is good to go too. There's some kind of gig thing they have you set for in Port Angeles, but they said they'd talk to you about that, I didn't know what the hell they were talking about. I thought that there might be a problem getting your school credits transferred— homeschooling is different after all and it's the middle of the year— but apparently they've got it all figured out down there and you're good to go." He paused to take a massive gulp of his coffee and pushes the food around his plate for a moment. "And, uh, I'm sorry. That I couldn't make it out to the funeral, I mean."

It was so absurdly tragic that I could almost laugh. Or cry. I loved my uncle dearly, even more so now that he was my only family, but the man had a chronic inability to process a wide range of emotions. This was as close as he would come to admitting how my parents' deaths had hurt him, this gruff apology. "It's fine, Charlie," I answered, spooning more eggs onto my plate. "Mom would have hated it anyway. Dad would have fallen asleep." Charlie nodded and we spent the rest of breakfast in silence. Finally, Charlie wished me good luck and lumbered out of the door, perhaps a little more eagerly than appropriate. I wondered idly if my bronze hair and green eyes hurt him as much as his looks hurt me. I thought of my bad story again.

It was such a good premise though. The child prodigy, acclaimed concert pianist by the age of twelve, retires to a future of bone-chilling banality after his parents die tragically from a misdiagnosed case of Spanish Influenza. It had all the markers of a nice, trashy romance novel. Too bad it was actually my life.

I sighed and went to wash my plate in the sink before I grabbed by keys and ventured out into the light drizzle. My Volvo was waited faithfully for me at the end of the driveway. It was a nice feeling to drive away from the little blue house. It was settled on the edge of the dense forest that blanketed the city. The poor little house had endured, just as it was, for years, holding back the waves of green that surged out from the trees. It looked paler, more colorless than I remembered it, but I was sure that that was just an unfortunate circumstance of being in the Olympic Peninsula. I had only been here for a day and even my Volvo looked less silver and more grey.

It didn't take long to reach Forks High School and since the collection of wide, brick buildings was huddled together just off of the highway, I couldn't even pretend to be lost to waste time. I pulled into the parking lot in front of the office building first, satisfied that there didn't seem to be too many people around to gape at me. Forks was a miniscule town, the kind of town where every student here had known one another since day care. It didn't really matter that I was rich or moderately famous— I was pretty sure the general population probably couldn't identify Mozart if I beat them over the head with his greatest compositions. Novelty was a precious as gold in Forks.

"Give me just one second, dear," said the red-haired woman behind the front desk without looking up as soon as I was in the office. "Name?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Masen, Edward," I answered. As expected, her head shot up with instant recognition. She sprang into activity, shuffling stacks of papers, folding this and printing that. After a few minutes of her frantic chatter that only required a few words from me, she'd assembled a packet for me that included my new class schedule, a slip of papers for my teachers to sign, even a map and had my classrooms highlighted. Once she was done, I gave her my most charming smile and thank her. She just waved my thanks away, a soft smile on her face.

"You're welcome, Edward. I hope you'll be happy here," she said gently. I could feel that my smile was a little stiff, frozen in place, but I thanked her again, this time more woodenly, and made it out of the office without an incident. By now, there was a quickly-moving line of cars leading into what my map designated as student parking. I joined it, letting the crowd herd me into the correct place. I could see students in other cars trying to squint through my tinted windows and groaned. At first, I was sure that the town was so small that even the sight of a new car would single me out, but by the time I had pulled into a parking space, I knew that it had more to do with the obvious trade-ins and hand-me-downs around me. My Volvo stuck out terribly as one of the best cars in the parking lot. I parked next to the only other car that looked about as expensive, a stunning, shiny red convertible. Whoever had enough pull with Daddy to get _that_ should probably start working on convincing him to transfer them to a real school…

I didn't allow myself much more than a deep breath before I cut the engine and shove my way out of the car, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I do pull up the hood on my jacket, but it's a vain gesture. Already I can see attention shifting towards me, people trying to be subtle, but clearly whispering and pointing. I stifled a sigh and checked my watch. There's a full twenty minutes before classes start. Cursing myself silently, I claimed one of the empty stone tables installed under the awning where it stays dry and tried not to look too outwardly hostile. I must have been doing a stunning job because after a few minutes, I'd had a few introductions and a small group of acquaintances gathered around me, all of us attempting to make small talk.

It was from within this polite little circle, waiting for the first bell to ring that I saw them.

There were four of them, two girls and two boys, though all of them, the boys especially, had an older look about them. They could easily have been college students rather than high school boys. Of the boys, one was built like a boulder, tall with broad shoulders and muscles that seemed to bulge even as he lounged against his own stone table. He had a hair of dark curls and an amiable grin as he knocked his fist into the other boy's arm. He was thinner, lankier, but still toned with longer honey-blond hair. He didn't seem to have the same jovial demeanor as his friend. In fact, he didn't look any happier to be here than I did. His hand rested in that of the smaller of the two girls, a little pixie of a think that short black hair that was styled into spikes. The other girl was her opposite, tall, stately, blonde and radiant. In fact, they were _all_ radiant— breath-takingly, devastatingly beautiful, regardless of gender and despite the fact that they didn't seem to resemble one another whatsoever. What were the odds that these four beautiful strangers had been assembled in Forks, Washington by chance?

"Who is _that_?" I blurted out. I realized a second too late that I had completely cut in over something one of my new friends had been telling me. He looked annoyed, but he took a glance over his shoulder to see who I'm talking about. When he turned back, the annoyed look was gone.

"Ah," he said sagely, while I try to remember his name. "_That_ is Alice and Emmett Cullen and Jasper and Rosalie Hale. They all live north of town with Dr. Cullen and his wife. They're all adopted or foster kids or something like that."

"Kind of old to be foster kids aren't they?" Kind of gorgeous too. Weren't foster children supposed to be sad and neglected? Not stunning and aloof like these four.

The boy, whose name, I thought, was Mike, shrugged. "Well, they've been with them a long time. Since they all were kids. I think Mrs. Cullen is related to some of them somehow. I don't really keep up with it. They've only been here for a few months." I pressed my lips together and made myself look away before I could get caught staring.

"This Dr. Cullen sure has great taste in children," I answer drily. Mike laughed and one of his friends elbowed him.

"Dude, if you think they're something, wait 'til you see Isabella," he said. Mike rolled his eyes.

"Tyler's had a boner for the ice queen since they moved here," he told me, crossing his arms. He turned back to Tyler. "Anyone with half a brain would go for Rosalie." Tyler scoffed.

"Yea, but who's got a chance with Rosalie with Emmett around?" he said with a pout. "That's the curse of the Cullens. Alice and Rosalie are sexy as fuck, but they're taken and I'm not keen on letting Emmett or Jasper kick my ass. Isabella's hot _and _fair game, but she 'doesn't date'," he paused to make the appropriate air quotes. "and her brothers get pissed off if you try to convince her otherwise!" This seemed to set off what seemed to be an ongoing argument about which Cullen was best and why.

"Hold on a second. Who's Isabella?" I said, chancing a glance at the Cullens again. The large one, Emmett, was staring straight at our group, a wide, slightly predatory smirk stretching across his face. He nudged Jasper and said something, nodding in our direction. Whatever he said didn't seem to amuse Jasper the same way. Suddenly, Alice leapt down from her seat on top of the table, grabbed Jasper's hand, and began gliding toward an empty parking space in the lot. Mike's cheeks suddenly went a little warm and he ducked down. There was a weird, dull roar coming closer and Tyler grinned.

"See for yourself."

Just then, there was the sharp whine of an engine and the students who had been milling around in the parking lot parted. A sleek black motorcycle flew up the aisle and skidded to a stop right in front of Alice and Jasper. I couldn't see much of the rider past dark blue jeans, a chocolate leather jacket, and black helmet. She kicked down the stand, cut the engine, and pulled off her helmet.

Her hair spilled out from her helmet and down her back, a rich mahogany color. She combed through it for a moment with her fingers and then threw it over her shoulder, climbing off of her bike. She handed the helmet to Jasper, who rolled his eyes and tucked it under his arm, ambling toward the convertible. The girl slung her arm around Alice's shoulders and, somehow, turned to look straight at me.

This girl had to be Isabella. She had the same perfectly chiseled features, the same odd grace. I found myself agreeing with Tyler. Rosalie was stunning definitely, but there was something… luminous about Isabella. And, of course, once I thought it, I felt ridiculous. Isabella turned away indifferently. I was about to turn away myself when I caught Alice's gaze.

She was happy to see me. She didn't smile, didn't even really meet my eyes. But I knew that she had wanted to see me for a while and now she did and it made her happy.

I shook my head and turned away, back into the safety of my little group. I had thought that it would stop happening. I'm not sure why, but somehow I thought that after my parents' deaths, I would have earned some reprieve. It happened sometimes, never when I wanted or expected it to and never with any sort of reason. Sometimes, I just knew things about people.

The bell to start the day rang then and I spent a few moments remembering names and saying goodbye. Mike pointed me towards the building where my first class would be. I couldn't help glancing back towards the Cullens, but they had already melted into the crowd into their own classes. I shook my head again and made my way into my first day of school in Forks, Washington.


	3. Knowing ::Twilight::

__A very short one this time, just to connect what's about to come a little bit. Many thanks to the great reviewers, I really appreciate it! :) Enjoy!

* * *

_Chapter 2: Knowing_

Alice was aware that, in general, her family didn't really get the whole psychic thing. Of course, Jasper understood her better than she did herself, and Bella and Carlisle tried their best to keep up. Then there was Emmett, who treated her gift like a glorified weather radar, and Esme, who worried that too many would give her a headache. None of them really understood that while seeing the future was as much a part of her as her right arm, she still didn't completely have it under control.

Sometimes she asked one question and got the answer to another. Sometimes, she wasn't looking for anything at all and one slammed her in the face. Sometimes, all she got was a flash of something… an apple or a box of tissues and it was up to her to figure out what it meant.

For example, there was the question of Edward Masen. She'd been seeing him in her visions for weeks, visions of him packing in lavish empty rooms, visions of him unpacking with a cold rainy window in the background, cooking for the local police chief. Alice couldn't get him out of her head and she didn't know why…

There were other times, though, when her gift brought her visions that were so beautifully clear, she could practically wrap a bow around them.

The forest was dense and silent. It felt empty. It felt like Bella and the boy were the only two people in the world. He was slight and beautiful, with crimson eyes and a crooked smile. Bella shone as she had never shone before. Alice scrutinized her, trying to understand how her sister could look exactly the same, but be unrecognizable. _It's the smile, _she realized as the boy tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, he grabbed her around the waist and spun her in a circle, laughing. When he put her down, he nuzzled his nose into her throat, "You smell good," he murmured. Bella grinned and buried her fingers in his hair.

"Edward Cullen," she said slowly, as if she were tasting the words. Her tone was awed. "It suits you."

"So, next lifetime, you'll take my name, right?"

Bella chuckled and draped her arms around his neck. "Nope. My family's name is older."

Edward gave her a frown, but his eyes sparkled. "What? Mine's more famous."

Bella only smiled faintly. She was too busy running her lips along the underside of his jaw. "Well, we're moving in with _my _parents." Edward's eyes slid shut and he leaned down, resting his forehead against hers.

"Hm… you may have me there," he said. Bella grinned and cradled his face in her hand.

"I love you, _amore mio_. _P__iù della mia vita_," Bella whispered against his lips.

"I love you too."

And then she blinked and was aware of the classroom around her once more. Her cellphone was in her hand. She had pulled it out just before the vision hit. All of the humans there were ignoring her as usual. She glanced at the screen quickly, finding a text from Bella.

_I have to leave_.

She saw that when they returned home, Carlisle would tell them that Bella was gone, that she had fled to Alaska. That she would remain there, stubbornly for a week before Esme's misery and begging would bring her back. And when she did come back she would confess, shamefully, that her undoing had been a boy in her class. A boy with a scent so delicious she had barely restrained herself from killing him right there.

A boy named Edward Masen.

Alice knew all of these things and more as she stared at the short message and as she tried in vain to make it all make sense in her mind, she wondered how so much trouble could come out of a little town like Forks.


	4. Falling ::Twilight::

__Happy Sunday, everyone! As always, thank you for the great reviews. Hope you're getting excited because things are about to get serious in Forks...

* * *

_Chapter 3: Falling_

The day I almost died, I didn't really have time for my life to flash before my eyes. Tyler Crowley's van was careening down the aisle at an impressive pace, too quickly for me to think, to shout, let alone to run through my every memory. Later, I would wonder why she watched certain death hurtling toward her with only mild surprise, but at the time, there was only time to look down the aisle where Isabella Cullen stood and _know._ The van was going to hit her; I was too far away to reach her in time; and her eyes were tawny gold today.

And then, something in the pit of my stomach had gone cold and I was lunging toward her. There was nothing I could do but die with her, but I didn't remember that until later. As I leapt out in front of Tyler's van, only one thought exploded through my mind.

_Not her._

The look on Isabella's face flickered through several emotions too quickly for me to read before they settled on terror. I blinked and instantly regretted it. It would be over before I had a chance to glimpse the world one more time.

Suddenly, something hit me hard from the wrong direction, knocking me to the ground. There was a screeching crunch of metal on metal just as my head cracked against the asphalt hard enough that stars burst in front of my eyes. The screeching continued as the van bounced off of the end of one car and was still spinning towards me…

There was a low snarl from somewhere just above me and something wound around my chest and hauled. Suddenly, I was propped up, my back against the side of some car with my legs pulled up towards my chest. Isabella Cullen sat with her knees on either side of my hips, both hands wrapped around my chest. She braced one hand on the side of the car and twisted, her forearm raised against the van…

_And it stopped_. The mammoth mass of glass and metal groaned and then shuddered to a stop at her touch. Plate glass rained down on us both as the door buckled around her arm as if the steel had been no harder than playdoh.

Everything was absolutely still for one long moment as actions too quick to process began to trickle through my mind. Isabella Cullen and I stared at each other. I had been right. Two weeks ago, her eyes had been black and angry. She'd hated me. Now, they were the same golden color they had been yesterday. Gold and panicked.

Then the screaming started. Someone— several someones— were shouting my and Tyler's name. There was a rumble and some movement from the van which made me think that someone was trying to get him out. Isabella twisted back to me, pulling her arm out of the door. I stared at the imprint left behind.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, her hands fluttering over my face, my shoulders, as if she were sure wherever she touched me would hurt me. I took a second to think about it. The back of my head was throbbing viciously and I could feel a few bruises coming on, but I seemed to still be alive, which was always nice.

"I…" my voice came out as a croak. I swallowed and grabbed one of her wrists. "I'm fine, Isabella." She gave a short bark of laughter that sounded more hysterical than anything else and slumped down so that her forehead rested on my shoulder, her wealth of brown hair spilling over my chest.

"You have _got_ to stop calling me that," she mumbled. I touched her back tentatively. I was suddenly fighting a wave of dizziness, but the need to make sure she was okay was keeping the world focused for the moment.

"Are you hurt?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No, I'm fine," she giggled. Warning bells were ringing in my head. God, it'd be just my luck for her to have some kind of concussion.

"Isabella, sit still. I think you hit your head. You're acting…" Like what? My experience of Isabella Cullen had shown me that she could have some crazy mood swings at the very least. Still I called on my only shred of medical knowledge and reached up to see if the back of her neck felt feverish. Her skin was as smooth and cold as ice. I hoped that it was just the snowy ground that had her chilled and not shock. "You feel cold."

"Please, just call me Bella. And stop worrying about me." She said and heaved another sigh, shuddering. "…_Piccola idiota…"_ she muttered.

"Bella… how did you get to me so fast?" I asked.

I felt more than saw her go tense. She raised her head and gave me a look that I would have thought was innocently confused had it not been for the wary edge in her gaze. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You grabbed me and pulled me out of the way."

I blinked and then shook my head. "What? No, I couldn't reach you. I was too far away."

"Edward." People were trying to shift the car now. They must have gotten Tyler out. "You were standing right next to me." Bella reached up to touch my cheek and smiled gently. I found myself leaning into her touch before I'd really thought of it. "You hit your head." Her voice dropped down to no more than a pleasant murmur. "Hush and be still. They'll have us out of here soon. An ambulance is on the way," she crooned.

I almost believed it. I _had_ hit my head pretty hard as we fell. My temples throbbed painfully in time with my heartbeat. Anyway, she had to be right. I must have misjudged how far away she'd been. It wasn't possible. But then… there was something hidden in the pleasant tone of her voice, in the indulgent way she smiled at me. Something that was too obvious. My jaw clenched.

"No, you were standing by your motorcycle. I was by my car."

"Edward—"

"Bella," I snapped. Her patient smile faltered and then dropped. She shot a glance at the edge of the van where several hands were pulling, trying to make a space big enough to pull us out, and then leaned closer.

"Edward," she whispered, pleading now, and all I wanted to do was wipe that sadness away. I groaned, leaning my head back so that it could rest against the car behind us. I didn't have the energy to argue with her over… what? Whether or not she could do the impossible? Cross a space that was too large to be crossed, shove me out of the way, and stop a hurtling van with one arm? My head continued its nasty pounding. Bella patted my cheek gently, but insistently. I blinked my eyes open to find her frowning at me. "Hey, stay awake," she told me.

"Why are you so damn mysterious?" I asked angrily. What I really wanted to know was why I cared. Bella didn't answer. The rescuers had managed to pry a big enough space between the two vehicles and someone had reached in to take her hand, pulling her up and out. She grasped onto them with both hands, and just like that, her cool, steady demeanor vanished and she was stumbling away from the wreckage on unsteady legs.

"Don't worry about me. He hit his head," she told someone I couldn't see. A paramedic hoisted me up, pulling my arm around his shoulder. Bella was being tended to by another paramedic. I could see her shaking her head, and then nodding towards me. I glanced across the parking lot as my paramedic loaded me into the ambulance. The Cullens were watching the proceedings with expressions that ranged from amused to confused to outraged. Not one of them seemed concerned or shaken by what their sister had just gone through. Even Bella seemed just a bit calmer than she should be, considering the circumstances…

The ride in the ambulance was short, as was the examination at the hands of some nurse with cold hands. They checked my pulse and blood pressure, ran my head through an x-ray all without me ever really having to pay attention. Finally, I was put in a bed and left alone, the nurse drawing the curtain around my bed before she left.

I waited quietly, running through the morning's events over and over. The van was at one end of the aisle, Bella was at the other. I was in the middle. I couldn't do anything to save her, but the thought of doing nothing, of watching while she died, made me sick even now.

But she should have died anyway. _Both of us_ should have.

"Mr. Masen?" I looked up as the curtain around my bed was pulled back. "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. How are you feeling?" The introduction was completely unnecessary, of course. The man was tall, devastatingly handsome, with golden hair and eyes. The idea that so many gorgeous people weren't actually related was starting to stretch the limits of my imagination. "The paramedics said you had a nasty knot on the back of your head," he continued, stepping into the room. He made me sit up as he spoke, probing my skull with gentle fingers. I shrugged.

"They gave me some aspirin. I feel fine. Is Bella okay?" Dr. Cullen nodded without pausing in his careful examination.

"She's got a few scratches, but it's nothing I can't take care of. She doesn't like hospitals, so I had Alice take her home." A few scratches? Her arm should have been a mangled mess after the way she pulled it out of that car. Better yet, both of us should have been a couple of stains on the pavement. "She told me that you jumped in front of the van to protect her." Dr. Cullen's voice had gone quiet and solemn. My face immediately began to burn.

"Yeah… she, uh, was right next to me. I just pulled her out of the way." If I had been even a little bit unsure before, saying it aloud definitely cemented my resolve. It was a lie and worse, to a father who thought I had saved his ultra-beautiful daughter. Dr. Cullen stepped back so that he could look at me.

"Thank you," he said, so simply and emphatically that for a moment all I wanted was to blurt out the truth. I didn't save anyone. I was just a fool who jumped in front of a moving car. I cleared my throat and nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"Your X-rays look good. I don't think you've sustained a concussion. Chief Swan is in the waiting room. You're free to go home with him. If you have any problems though, blurry vision, nausea, dizziness, come back immediately. Understand?"

I nodded and swung my legs out of bed quickly, before he could express any more gratitude. "Yes, sir," I said, pulling on my tattered jacket. The leather had been scored beyond repair. "Thank you," I added and quickly left the room. Charlie gave me one brief hug as I stepped into the waiting room. His eyes were suspiciously red and watery, but I knew better than to point that out. For a while, I tried to put the entire situation out of my head and concentrate on scraping together a decent lunch for the two of us. Charlie didn't want to make me to cook, but I was starting to get a bit sick of pizza, so I managed to boil some noodles and heat some spaghetti sauce in a jar. Like when I first arrived, we spoke little as we ate, Charlie because he couldn't and me because I didn't want to. Still, it was inevitable that it would come up.

"Dr. Cullen told me that you saved his girl. Was it the little one? Alice?"

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "It was Isabella. And I didn't exactly save her. She was standing next to me and I pulled her out of the way. It's not a big deal." Charlie laughed once, a gruff, sad sound.

"You know, that's exactly what your dad would have said."

He had to go back to work then and I was left alone in the house with my thoughts. I kept myself busy for a while cleaning the kitchen and doing some laundry. Eventually, though, I ran out of ways to distract myself. An hour went by and I found myself at my computer pulling up the search engine.

I hesitated, and then, feeling exceptionally stupid I typed:

_Super speed_

And hit enter. Software. Video games. An old wiki for a comic book. Thinking of Bella's arm deep in the van door, the way it shuddered to a halt while she remained unmoved, I added:

_Super speed and super strength._

A poll came up. Which would you rather have? A couple of youtube videos. Some post about Superman. Finally, blushing and thinking of Bella's hair as she slumped down against my shoulder, I quickly added one more word to my query and hit the search key.

_Beautiful_.

The page blanked out and began to load, but just as the results popped up, there was a sharp knock at the door. I cursed and closed out the browser window. I couldn't think of anyone who would be over here at this time of day, other than my few friends from school trying to get a few gory details. I pulled the door open, already rolling my eyes, and then stopped short when I found Bella Cullen staring back at me instead.


	5. Substitute ::PreTwilight::

__Hi guys! Sorry about the long update time, but I'm definitely still in love with this project. Thank you so much for all of the great reviews! Unfortunately, I've got to be bad with a bit of a cliffhanger... don't hate me too much ;P

I've also put up a one shot: _Mea Culpa_. Check it out if you have time.

As always, enjoy! :)

* * *

_Chapter 4: Substitute_

The first time I fight with Carlisle, it is Esme's fault. At least, that's what I tell myself as I make a first wide, furious loop around our house in northern Alberta. By the time I've taken the route a few more times, I decide that it's Carlisle's doing. It is years before I begin to consider the idea that I may be the one to blame.

I was only months old when Carlisle took me away from Volterra, taught me to hunt, gave me a home. It didn't take long before he became everything to me: a friend, a teacher, a confidant. For a long time, he was the only thing that kept the guilt and the loneliness at bay. We spent four years this way together, making our way through the country as a doctor and his widowed daughter. Everything was perfect.

And then, in Ashland, he came home with a broken woman and fixed her. And now Esme is a part of our family, whether I like it or not.

And I do _not_ like it.

When I finally come back to the house, I'm in no mood to discuss anything. I don't quite remember everything I'd said before I stormed out of the house, but I remember the general idea. I fly up the stairs and head towards my room, but my foot has barely hit the top stair before I'm stopped.

"Bella." I freeze and cringe just a little. The door to Carlisle's office is shut tight, but that doesn't really stop either of us from hearing one another. In his tone is a question, as if _he_ is asking _me_ for permission. As much of a brat as I've been so far, I can't make myself turn away from him now. I sigh and push the door open, though I remain on the threshold.

"Carlisle." His look of quiet patience irritates me. I've been a brat. Both of us know it. Still, he points to a couch tucked into the corner of his office, one that we have brought from house to house with us for the last four years. he He had helped me through simple children's books on that couch. He had let me cry on that couch. Esme had gone through her transformation on that couch. I sink down on it stiff-backed and proper. He sits down next to me and sighs, gazing quietly into my face.

"We've never fought before, Bella. Have we?" he says quietly, without preface. This has often been our way. I shake my head. He sighs again and takes my hands gently. "I don't like it." I don't like it either, but I don't tell him that. A third sigh and by now I am worried. Carlisle and I have been together for my entire life, or at least, all of it that can matter now. He alone has shown me compassion and given me a home. He would not think of sending me away over _Esme_. Would he? "Bella, I want to ask you something," he says as I clench my jaw against the thought. He misunderstands and releases my hands. "I want for you to answer me truthfully. No matter what." I wait obediently and he takes a deep breath. "Bella, do you love me?"

The question is so obvious that it stuns me for a moment. "Yes, of course," I answer, slightly confused. He looks shocked and then narrows his eyes.

"No, Bella, I suppose I mean to ask if you're _in _love with me." Now it's my turn to narrow my eyes. English is a ridiculous, complicated language that I haven't completely mastered yet. As far as I can tell, he has asked me the same thing, but he seems to want a different answer.

"Carlisle, I don't understand you," I say tiredly. Carlisle rubs the back of his neck. Am I imagining it or does he look… embarrassed?

"I mean… do you love me… in a romantic way?"

For a long moment, I just stare at him, dumbfounded. I regain my voice before my wits. "No. No! Why, are you on love with me?" I demand, eyeing him. But Carlisle looks satisfied, even relieved, with my answer.

"No, I'm not," he answers with a small smile. He takes my hands again. "But you've given me reason to wonder. You've been… different since Esme came. It's been a long time since I've seen you so angry and never with me." I don't answer. Sometimes that's enough for Carlisle. He has a habit of knowing when it is best to leave me be, but today, he continues to watch my face carefully. After a long pause, he reaches out and touches my temple.

"Bella… I did not do this to replace you."

I learned since dying that vampires cannot cry. I yell instead. "_I know that_," I snarl, snatching my hand away once more. "I am not a jealous lover, Carlisle, or a needy child!"

"Then why are you so angry with her?" My problem is patience. It is that I have none and Esme has it in excess. I stand. When Carlisle moves to stop me, I step quickly out of his reach, wrapping my arms tightly around my torso. "Just leave me be, Carlisle," I say quietly and leave. Carlisle lets me go without speaking, for which I am grateful, but I have only gone a few steps down the hallway before Esme is there, watching me in that odd way of hers. I just bare my teeth and start to stalk past her towards my room. Normally, this is enough to send her shrinking into herself, but today, she moves so that she is blocking my way. She stares at me with her huge, round eyes that are blood red because she is only three weeks old. Esme doesn't lose her temper a quarter as much as I did.

"Bella," Esme starts slowly, but I'm in no mood to hear reason at the moment. I cover the space between us in a blink and glare up at her.

"Let me pass," I say.

To her credit, Esme does not shrink away. She is almost two inches taller than I am and manages, somehow, to hold her ground without ever implying a sense of hostility. Which only serves to irritate me further. She clasps her hands in front of herself.

"Bella, I beg you, don't be upset with me."

Ugh. I roll my eyes and push past her and this time she moves easily. I go into my room quickly, without looking back, and shut the door because if I see Esme one more time, I will either rip out her throat or collapse sobbing into her arms, both of which are completely unacceptable.

The problem is that walking away from Esme does not bring me any relief. There's no way to go far enough from her eyes, eyes that are too big. The transformation normally leaves vampires with sharper, more extreme features than a human. Our beauty is sculpted. Severe. Esme, though, is more rounded, softer, than any other. She is less inherently threatening. I look like a predator. Esme looks like a fairy godmother.

Esme does not snap when I am rude or complain when I refuse to speak English around her. Even when she was only hours old, a time when I was ripping through people as fast as my new body would take me, Esme was trying to brush her fingers through my hair, tucking it out of my face. As hard as I have been trying, it is not possible to be angry with Esme for anything.

"I am not angry with you," I say to the room. Esme can hear me. "I am angry with Carlisle for bringing you. You couldn't help it."

There's a soft sound on the other side of the door and I can smell Esme's scent just outside. She touches the doorknob, but doesn't pull the door open.

"That's not what you said when you left," she says.

"I changed my mind on my run."

Esme stands silently on the other side of my door for a moment longer and then she leaves, heading towards Carlisle's office. I take down one of the practice readers from my bookshelf and curl up with it on my bed, but the words mean nothing to me and I spend fifteen minutes on a single paragraph before I stop pretending to myself.

My mother was French. She grew up in Nantes, a large city in the north. She had never been farther than a day's ride outside of the city before she met my father, but she agreed to follow him to another country, to a small farm where she was afraid of the cow and cried when it came time to kill and eat the chickens. I could love Carlisle because my own father, Carlo, was a strong man. A steady man. He didn't need me. But my mother… the mother I used to take to the market, because she could barely speak Italian, who I cooked for because she could ruin toast…

"_I do not love Esme,"_ I whisper in Italian and then again, ever more quietly in French. My new body doesn't cry, so I've found new ways to manage my grief. Angrily, I climb out of my window and head for the forest, hoping, futilely, to lose myself among the trees.

I do not love Esme. I can't. Because my mother has been dead for less than five years and I hear her own sweet voice every time I look into Esme's eyes.


	6. Safe ::Twilight::

Hi guys! I'm really sorry for the long update time. I don't really have an excuse, I just got buried under all of my school work for a while there. Please, take this new chapter as a peace offering :) Also, for anyone afraid that I'm going to abandon this fic, don't be. I've got cool stuff planned at least all the way into New Moon. I'm not going anywhere ;P. I appreciate all of the great reviews and I hope you guys keep them coming!

Enjoy

_Chapter 5: Safe_

"Um, hey."

"Edward. Hi."

The drops of water made a gentle mosaic of taps on the overhang over the porch. The gentle _pit-pit_ was far too soft to be heard by human ears, but it was just enough to irritate me. I smiled while balling my hands into fists in the pockets of my jacket. I'd tied and retied the bandage around my left arm, all while ignoring Rosalie's carefully done silent treatment. I'd positioned and repositioned my sleeve to that it was causally visible and he was sure to notice it, but he wasn't even looking. Instead, he was staring at me. How had I never noticed how green his eyes were?

"What are you doing here?"

I had wondered the same thing myself as I knocked on the door and counted the thousands of drops that fell while I waited for him to answer. The truth was that I shouldn't have come. I should be avoiding the little idiot like the plague. He only ever seemed to be in danger around me. And yet, here I was. Carlisle had said that there was nothing wrong with him, but… something drove me to see with my own eyes. It stemmed from the same odd, unfounded feeling that had haunted me for almost a week now, ever since I had returned from Alaska. I… worried about the boy. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? I had expended so much energy restraining myself; it would be a shame if he died anyway…

I smothered a scowl and made my smile shy, reaching up with my left hand to push a lock of hair out of my face. Edward's eyes locked on the bandage. "Carlisle said that you were home from the hospital…" I said. I could hear his heart thudding away in his chest. Too fast. The slightly wet _plod, plod _sound filled my mouth with venom and I swallowed hastily. "Could I come in?" It would have been better for both of us if he said no. That he was busy. That vampires weren't allowed in the house. But he didn't say anything. His eyes were still caught on the edge of my sleeve where the bandage was visible. I shifted because that's what a normal human would do. "Or I could just go…" This seemed to jolt him out of whatever reverie had caught him. He shook his head and smiled, his green eyes slightly less certain than they had been. He stepped out of the way, gesturing me into the house.

"Sorry, I zoned out. Come out of the rain," he hurried to say. I held my breath and went in, pushing my hood down as I surveyed the little living room. There were a few pictures on the mantle, a uniform jacket on the couch. Small miracles: it seemed that Edward hadn't spent much time in the room. Chief Swan's scent almost overpowered his. Almost. Still, I didn't have time to hesitate. The quicker I accomplished… whatever it was I was there to do, the quicker I could get out of there. The thought only served to irritate me more. I didn't know what would satisfy this new compulsion. I only knew that ignoring it was like something dull and burning down in my chest. More flames to add to the thirst.

"I didn't wake you up or anything, did I?" I asked, still looking around. I found that I didn't quite like the house, or better, I didn't like him in it. It was too empty.

Edward shook his head dismissively. "No, it's fine. I'm actually glad to see you. Dr. Cullen said that you were fine and everything, but…" His eyes flicked towards the bandage around my arm again and then away. "I don't know, it's nice to make sure." I tilted my head to the side, listening to his heart. It did a quick little double skip every time he looked at my arm. I glance down at it myself, feeling tense. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to draw attention. Some people could talk themselves out of what they had seen much more effectively than anyone else. I slid my sleeve down lower as I shrugged off my jacket.

"I don't like hospitals." That was a small bit of truth at least. When I was a girl, the mere idea of blood could make me queasy. Now, it tempted me in ways that made me disgusted with myself. I opened my mouth to say something (what, even I wasn't quite sure), but was interrupted by my buzzing phone. I pulled it out and glanced at it. A text message from Alice was flashing on the screen.

_Search history, first door on the left at the top of the stairs. Hold your breath._

I frowned and glanced at the stairs on the left. She must have seen something… I fixed my expression and turned to face Edward. "Sorry, could I use your bathroom?"

Apparently, this was not what he expected of me. His eyebrows came together. "Oh. Sure. Top of the stairs on the right."

I thanked him and hurried up the stairs, taking heed of which floor boards creaked and which didn't. The bathroom was easy to spot. I went to it, opened the door wide and then shut it firmly without going in. It didn't take long to figure out that the door on the left was Edward's room. His scent emanated strongly through the open door. Downstairs, Edward sighed and the springs in the couch creaked. I focused hard on his heartbeat. If he heard anything, there would be a change. I held my breath and moved quickly across the hall and through the open door, careful not to jostle it. His computer was dark, but it sprung to life with a touch to the mouse. It took no more than half a second to scan the page.

Oh. _Shit._

I cleared the history with a pass of my hand and shot out of the room and down the stairs. I managed to restrain my speed before I rounded the corner, but it was still too fast. I could see that much in Edward's expression.

"What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"I have to go," I spit through my teeth. I couldn't deal with this right now; I wasn't prepared. I could deal with vague suspicions or confusions. That, I could explain away. But if he had strung things together enough to start searching for answers… I increased my pace, making a beeline for the door. Edward scrambled to his feet, blocking my way.

"Right now? You just got here."

I sidestepped around him, kept my eyes away from his face. "I said, I have to go," I retorted, still heading for the door. I hesitated a second, glancing toward my jacket draped over the arm of the couch. It was all the time he needed, apparently.

"Please, wait a second. We have to talk." Edward's hand came out of nowhere to shove the front door shut just as I had pulled it open by about an inch. I could have pulled it off of its hinges with a flick of my wrist. I made myself let it go.

"About what?" I said without turning around.

"Are you joking?" He touched my shoulder, hesitated, and then pulled his hand away. "I've replayed this morning, all of it, over and over in my head," he said, hesitantly at first, but with gaining confidence. "I was nowhere near you. You— _we _should have died. Tell me what happened."

My grip on the doorknob tightened. "I don't have time for this," I snapped. "What do _you_ think happened, Edward?"

Edward's heart pounded hard in his chest, betraying the cool confidence he had managed to insert into his voice. He drew closer and then fell away. He was pacing. Feeling hot in the pit of my stomach, I turned to see him shove his fingers through his already unruly hair.

"You— you were so far away," he said in a rush, his words tripping over one another, "There was no way I could've… and then I blinked and you were _there_ and the van and… you stopped it." He stopped, breathing hard. His cheeks were bright red, but he was staring, defiantly, straight into my eyes. He took a slow step toward me. "_You just stopped it_. What is going on?"

I concentrated on freezing over my eyes and making my voice harsh. On hiding the curious feeling that was creeping up from my stomach. "You must have hit your head pretty hard if you think anyone's going to believe that story," I sneered and threw open the door. I staked out into the misting rain, raking my fingers through my hair. I made it two steps out into the fresh air before I felt something searing and feather-light close around my wrist. His scent rushed forward, enveloped me. I wasn't ready. Without thinking and slipped my wrist out of his grip and closed my fingers around his instead. Too quick. Not human. But it didn't matter. I turned and stepped close to him, my eyes fixed on the vein pulsing so invitingly under his jaw…

"Bella."

I froze. Emmett's voice was like ice over flames. He wasn't supposed to be there, Alice had to have sent him. Alice must've seen… I tore my gaze away from his throat and up to his face. His eyes were wide. Surprised.

Frightened.

All at once, the fury was gone. The thirst was gone. I was only ashamed. I glanced over my shoulder to see Emmett leaning out of the driver's side of my car, as if he's been there the entire time. He was watching me carefully. By his expression, one would think that he was just being protective, reacting to a guy grabbing his little sister. His eyes said differently, though. They cautioned me.

I bit my lower lip and turned back to Edward, releasing his wrist carefully as I stepped closer. He held himself motionless as I reached up on tiptoe to put my lips right next to his ear. From this distance, Emmett would know that I'd said something, but he wouldn't be able to distinguish the words. "Please," I whispered, "let it go. For both of or sakes."

"Bella…"

And now, I found myself frozen for a completely different reason. His voice didn't match his eyes. It was unafraid and gentle. It was fierce and protective. As if this little lamb of a boy could ever hope to protect me. He touched my elbow with his fingertips and I pulled away, cursing because I hadn't wanted to pull away.

I liked the way he said my name.

I took one step back and then another, trying to clear my head, but Edward's scent mixed with the rain-dusted grass was too sweet. I touched my forehead, glaring at nothing. "Stop," I snapped, but then I made the mistake of looking at his face. I felt my glare soften. "Just stop," I finished in a whisper. I skipped down the steps at a brisk human pace and swung myself into the passenger seat of the car, all without daring a glance back at Edward. Emmett took my cue and slid back into the driver's seat, pealing out of the driveway as soon as my door was closed. I folded my hands in my lap to keep myself from punching out my own windshield. "What are you doing here?" I snapped at Emmett.

He just shot me a glance, unruffled as usual. "Alice saw that you would need a reality check and she didn't trust Rose or Jasper to actually stop you. Looks like she was right." Out of anyone else's mouth, it would have sounded smug. From Emmett, it just sounded rude. "Your turn. What the hell happened out there today? One second I figured you would just get out of the freaking way and then—"

"He jumped in front of the van," I mumbled. I could practically feel Emmett's indignant reply even before he opened his mouth. "He thought that it would kill me. He meant to protect me." The farther away from his house we drove, the more drained I felt, or maybe it was because we were drawing closer and closer to our house. I wasn't looking forward to facing my family, not knowing what I knew about Edward's search history…

Emmett snorted, yanking me out of my thoughts. "Well, why not just let the little dummy die then?" he snickered.

I slid down in my seat and pressed my forehead against the glass. Just the idea made me feel sick. I examined the feeling with a black kind of curiosity. "I don't know," I answered truthfully. "No one's ever tried to save my life before…"


	7. Verdict ::Twilight::

Merry Christmas! Thanks for the awesome reviews, I really appreciate them. Question though. A couple of people mentioned something called A Different Forest or ADF. I searched FF and didn't find anything on it. Can someone put a link or something in the review? Many thanks and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

_Chapter 6: Verdict_

"We can't afford to leave stories behind."

Rosalie spoke with tight, cold precision, her hands pressed flat against her knees. She was pretending to look at Carlise, while actually scowling at Bella. "Who knows what the human will be saying in a week or two. If Bella isn't able to fix this— _without_ a scene—then I am. He already hit his head. Who's to say he just doesn't wake up tomorrow morning?"

(Rosalie crept cautiously up an ancient tree that grew with its trunk practically pressed up against the little blue house. Once at the top, she pulled open a window and slipped inside. The next morning, a team of paramedics would have to restrain Chief Swan as they wheeled Edward's body into the ambulance.)

Bella paced from one end of the room to the other in half a second and again and again. It was an odd habit she had when she was agitated. Most vampires reacted to stress with stillness. For some reason, Bella went to the other extreme. It made her irritating to watch, both in the present and otherwise. She gave herself too many options for Alice's liking. Bella paused in her pacing to shoot Rosalie an irritated glance. "You know, it's funny. You thought that leaving stories behind was just fine when we left Youngston or Cleaver or Olive…"

Rosalie's mouth was set in a frown. "Rumors are one thing, but evidence and eyewitnesses—"

Bella snorted and went back to pacing. "What evidence?"

(Rosalie went to dig her fingers into the soft, brittle bark of an ancient tree that grew with its trunk practically pressed up against the little blue house, but one lily white arm grabbed a fistful of her Christian Audigier sweat suit and yanked. The next day, Bella would be smug and Rosalie would sulk over the back of her designer top, which Esme would try and fail to repair.)

"How can you expect us to be so careless? With the way we live, with all of the people who would love to see us punished, we _have_ to be cautious, even more cautious than the others! I can be quick and effective. He won't suffer—"

A nasty snarl ripped itself out of Bella's chest, but her stride didn't even falter. "Don't bother selling your skills as a _murderer_ to me—"

Rosalie hissed in return. Esme stood from her spot on the couch next to Rosalie and stepped forward into Bella's path. "Bella," she said quietly and just once. Bella didn't answer, but she managed to rein her snarl back into a sneer. She reached out to brush Esme's hand as she stepped around her, more of an acknowledgement than an apology, but Esme smiled sweetly, satisfied, and glided over to perch herself on the arm of Carlisle's chair. He stared hard at Rose for a long minute and then hefted a sigh.

"Rosalie…" he began.

(Rosalie flounced onto her bed, inspecting her nails with narrow eyes. She sighed and puffed for a few minutes before Emmett bounded onto the bed, bouncing raucously. "Aw, come on baby. Don't be put out. We'll go hunting and you can kill something else," he said as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.)

Alice didn't listen to whatever Carlisle said. It didn't matter. Whatever it was was enough to put Rosalie on a different path, but… She narrowed her eyes and focused on the middle distance, all in vain. No matter how hard she tried—

(The forest was dense and silent. It felt empty. It felt like Bella and the boy were the only two people in the world. He was slight and beautiful, with crimson eyes and a crooked smile. But then he was gone. He wasn't there. He never had been. And the light that had shone in Bella's eyes went out.)

Alice frowned, leaning back into the cushions of the loveseat. The vision she'd had a week ago during class wasn't the same. It was foggy and indistinct now, flickering rapidly between a vast set of alternate realities, where Edward was there or he wasn't or he was there, but hated Bella, or Bella hated him. Someone had chosen a different course, one that had thrown that particular future into chaos. Alice blinked and looked at Jasper.

Bella seemed to know too, somehow. She too had turned her back on Rosalie, who was still debating details with Carlisle, and turned to face her brother. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, removed. He wasn't a part of the conversation. His path was quite solid.

(Jasper moved through the forest with the relentlessness of a river and the power of a missile. He broke seamlessly over and around any obstacles in his path. His path toward his target was as straight as an arrow's flight. There was no hesitation as he broke out of the tree line. He rocketed up through the branches of an ancient tree that grew with its trunk practically pressed up against a little blue house, sure of himself and his purpose—)

Bella glanced over her shoulder at Alice. Alice lowered her gaze, the smallest nod possible. She could practically feel Bella bristling in response.

(—but then, like a streak of lightening, a lone, lithe form shot out of the shadows and tackled Jasper. The two hit the ground hard and dragged each other back into the cover of the forest, snarling and hissing all the way.)

"Jasper."

Jasper glanced up from his careful inspection of the carpet and gave Bella a small smile.

"Bella."

"It's not going to happen, Jasper."

(Jasper moved through the forest with the relentlessness of a river and the power of a missile. He broke seamlessly over and around any obstacles in his path. His path toward his target was as straight as an arrow's flight. But then, right on the edge of the trees, he hesitated. He froze and then grimaced and a second later, Bella dropped out of the branches over his head. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Bella held out a hand to him, pleading.

"I won't let you touch him.")

"I'm sorry, Bella. But I won't let Alice live in danger. The Volturi—"

Alice flinched and locked eyes with Emmett. Bella was halfway across the room before he caught her around the waist. She would never have hurt Jasper, Alice knew that even without a vision, but Bella's temper was notoriously volatile and Alice knew that the boys were particularly fond of the flat screen television that Bella had planned on throwing. "Chill, Bella," Emmett chided. "Breathe. Maybe you should sit down." Bella glared at Emmett, but she let herself be guided onto the couch. He quickly seated himself between her and Rosalie. Alice breathed a little easier. She would have a bit more warning next time.

"The Volturi do not own me anymore," Bella said coldly. "They do not decide what I do." Jasper held up his hands. His eyes were compassionate.

"That's not how I meant it," he said gently. "But facts are facts. If we just ignore the rules, they _will_ come for us. I'm not going to let that happen."

"Edward won't say anything," Bella said through her teeth.

"You really think so? Alice already told us what you saw on his computer."

(Jasper moved through the forest with the relentlessness of a river and the power of a missile. He broke seamlessly over and around any obstacles in his path. His path toward his target was as straight as an arrow's flight. Suddenly, he wheeled around and rocketed back the way he came, locking his arms around Bella's waist. The two of them were launched back into the brush and though Bella struggled, Jasper's grip remained sure. "What are you doing here?" he growled in her ear. She struggled harder, but when she spoke, her voice was desperate.

"I won't let you touch him.")

Alice didn't like the look on Bella's face. It wasn't angry— her anger was powerful, but it burned itself out pretty quickly— but it was contemplative. Whatever it was that Bella was thinking, it looked like it was making her sick. Alice's heart clenched, her focus shifting rapidly from her sister here and now and the girl in the dozens of futures that were splintering off moment by moment.

"I meant what I said, Jazz," Bella said.

Jasper's expression was still gentle. Unmoved. He didn't understand. "That's not up to you, Bella."

(Jasper moved through the forest with the relentlessness of a river and the power of a missile. Suddenly, Bella launched herself out of the shadows, locked her arms around her brother's torso and heaved. Jasper flew fifty feet back the way he came, turned a neat backflip, and caught a branch of a passing tree. He gawked at Bella as he hung, one-handed, from the tree. She sank into a hunting crouch. "Bella," he said, dropping to the ground and taking a cautious step forward. "What are you doing here?" Bella brushed at imaginary tears with the back of her wrist. Everything here was solid. Everything was real. This was meant to happen.

"I… I won't let you touch him," Bella whispered and charged.)

Bella shook her head and stood slowly, consciously. "You don't understand," she whispered. "_I won't let you touch him._"

There was a beat of silence as everyone understood what Bella was saying. Alice kept her eyes on Jasper's face, watched his expression freeze and crack into disbelief. She could practically feel him reaching out with his other sense, wondering how serious Bella was, hesitating…

Alice winced and pressed her fingers to her temple as Bella's resolve, Jasper's hesitance, her family's surprise all rolled together and shattered the future into a thousand different options all equally possible, all impossibly relevant. She squeezed her eyes shut— what was happening now was no longer most important— but her eyes continued to dart about behind her eyelids. These were the moments that scared and exhilarated her, the moments when she almost felt like a stranger, watching herself see and comprehend a hundred different scenes, sending the least likely, pressing or relevant to the back of her mind and watching the others float to the forefront. It was a chaos too pure, full of too many lights and colors, voices and words and anger and kisses and an arm frail as tissue paper slung casually around her shoulders—

"OH!" Alice's eyes popped open. She was vaguely surprised to find Jasper kneeling at her feet, his fingertips on her knee. He was frowning up at her, clearly concerned, but Alice was too busy weighing the possibilities to wonder at his discomfort. In fact, nothing, not her family's wary stares or Bella's conflicted gaze, was really getting to Alice at the moment. Slowly, the corners of her mouth tilted up, she grinned, then she beamed, then she began to bounce in her seat.

"Alice…" Jasper started, taken aback by her behavior. "What did you see?"

Alice let loose a peal of tinkling laughter and poked the tip of Jasper's nose. "You will not be killing Edward Masen. Or at least you'd better not. For one thing, yes, Bella is serious and I don't want you two fighting. And for another, Edward and I are going to be _friends_, maybe even good friends, and I'll be very upset if you kill him."

There was another silence, one that was even more shocked than the first. Bella was the first to regain her voice.

"What?" she choked. "Alice, what do you mean? Is he— am I going to— one of—?"

"Oh no, he won't be one of us. Or at least, not yet. Not definitely. I don't know, Bella, it's complicated and…" even as she spoke, as Bella's expression grew more and more confused and agitated, the lines in the vision were becoming more solid. More inevitable. She gave Bella a sympathetic look. "Honestly, you're not going to like it."

"Too bad," Rosalie chimed from her spot on the couch. "If it has something to do with our family and the boy we have a right to know. Bella can deal." Alice shot Rosalie an exasperated look, but in a thousand years, she could never hope to match Rosalie in the game of dirty looks. Bella didn't rise to the bait.

"Alice…" she murmured, pleading. Alice sighed.

"It's… pretty certain. There are only two options now. Either Edward will… be killed," Alice winced at Bella's look of horror, but she forced herself to be more specific, "_you_ will kill him, or he'll be one of us someday." Alice kept her eyes locked on Jasper's hand wrapped around her own. "And his last name," she whispered to their hands, "will be Cullen."


	8. Alice ::Twilight::

Happy spring break :)

* * *

_Chapter 7: Alice_

The Cullens spent the next month ignoring me along with the rest of the student population. After a few well-placed questions to my new friends, I learned that this was usual Cullen behavior, so it was considered some sort of strange pseudo-ordinary. I concluded that the citizens of Forks were so cut off from actual civilization that they thought that five hyper-beautiful teenagers wandering around, saving people, and staring at walls was perfectly average. Somehow, Bella, the only Cullen with whom I shared a tiny lab table for an hour every day, was most successful at pretending I didn't exist.

No one questioned the story I told: that Bella was passing by me on the way into the school when I saw the van and pulled her out of the way. I'd been prepared to be slapped the second I tried to pass off that pile of crap, but apparently what felt to me like something to be laughed at was actually something to swoon over. No one had seen Bella on the opposite end of the aisle, and in fact, no one had even known she was involved until the paramedics pulled her out of the wreckage. After a few more weeks at school, I understood why. People panted over Rosalie's beauty, cringed away from Emmett's bulk, whispered about Alice's strangeness. Even Jasper, who everyone was largely bored by, was good for giggling over just because he was dating his foster sister. Bella flew under the radar. No one else seemed to be constantly aware of her the way I was. The realization kind of depressed me. I was apparently the biggest creeper in Forks High School.

I managed to speak to her exactly once after our… conversation at my house. I'd spent the night before working myself into a self-righteous frenzy. Bella Cullen was treating me like the world's biggest idiot. She couldn't possibly think that I would to lie to absolutely everyone just because she said so. At the very least, she should have had the decency to explain herself, to tell _me_ the truth. By the time I got to school, I felt ready to deal with the situation. We would talk and this time, I wouldn't be distracted by her looks or any of the weird, cryptic things she said or the feelings that sprung up, unbidden, when she said my name…

The next day, I sat at one of the stone tables and waited, watching the parking lot closely. Unfortunately, the day after a near-tragedy, no one wants to leave you alone, so I spent half of my energy trying to politely shoo away the crowd of students all wanting to tell me a blow-by-blow of everything that had happened from their vantage point. Jessica Stanley was the most… persistent by far. She was practically in tears as she tucked herself into my side, telling me how scared she was that I had died. I was almost relieved when the Cullens finally showed up. I barely managed to extract myself from Jessica's grip.

They were all lounged around another table, Alice, Jasper, and Rosalie perched on the table top, heads bent over some car magazine, and Bella and Emmett on the bench. His arm was slung across her shoulders and the two of them were murmuring to each other. Even from halfway across the courtyard, she looked fairly miserable. My resolve crumbled a bit, but I shook myself out of it. Angry. I was supposed to be angry.

"Bella. Could I talk to you for a second?" My voice was not as stern and disapproving as I'd planned, especially with Emmett glaring at me. But Bella cringed. I forced myself not to feel bad.

Silently, she rose from her seat and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "Sure. Let's walk," she said tersely and set off at a brisk pace towards the school. It took me a few frantic paces to catch up with her, but after we cleared the initial crowd of students around the doors, the hallways were empty. "So," she said once we were alone, her voice sharp, "What is it now?"

I grimaced. It would be easy to be annoyed with her if she could keep this tone. "Did you really think that your…" I struggled to keep my voice even, neutral, "your _act_ yesterday would make me forget that you ran out of there without giving me any actual answers?" Good. Act was a good word: very neutral and slightly scornful. It was an act. One moment, I'd grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her back, make her wait, and then I blinked and my fingers were closed over thin air and it was _her_ hand that held my wrist. Her grip was stronger and surer than mine. She stepped closer and something in my brain shuddered, but I couldn't think about that because she smelt _so good—_

Yeah, act was a really good word for it. It didn't at all betray the uncomfortable, fluttering feeling that washed over me after she was gone. It didn't show the unease I felt now that I understood what it was.

I had been afraid.

Bella stopped walking and started to fiddle with a combination lock on the locker next to her, pulling it open, all the while very pointedly not looking at me. "I thought you already had all of the answers," she said, making a show out of exchanging a few books from her backpack and the locker. "You think that I somehow teleported from one end of the aisle to the other, shoved you out of the way, and stopped a two ton van with my bare hands, right? And no one saw this but you."

"One hand, actually," I said through my teeth. Bella slammed the locker door shut with a snap and glared. She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off, stepping closer despite _something_ in the back of my mind that warned me not to. "I know what I saw," I told her evenly, "I'm not crazy."

"You must be," she retorted in a low voice, "if you think anyone's going to believe you."

"Look, I'm not going to tell anyone!" I snarled.

This, of all the things I had said to her, stopped her short. She opened her mouth to snap something back, paused, closed her mouth and wilted. Her eyes, that had been so sharp and angry a second ago, now looked too big, tired, and confused. "Then what's the point, Edward?"

And _that_ was the million dollar question, the question I had avoided asking myself all night because I didn't want to know the answer. Why couldn't I let it go, call it a miracle, and move on? I raked my fingers through my hair and snapped at her because she was asking me questions I couldn't answer myself. "You want me to lie to _everyone_. To Charlie. I'd at least like to know that it's for a good reason. I'd at least like to know the truth!" Bella narrowed her eyes and stepped even closer, closing what little distance had been between us.

"The truth," she whispered with a scowl, "is that I saved your life. Please, just thank me and be done with it." I scowled back.

"You know, I think I'd be much more grateful if you would stop treating me like an idiot. Or a child," I retorted. Bella snorted and shouldered her bag, turning on her heel.

"You _are_ a child," she muttered over her shoulder as she started to walk away. For a long moment I watched her do it while my pride and my conscience set to wrestling. Finally, I lunged forward, taking hold of the strap of her bag.

"Wait a minute," I said quietly. "You're right." She didn't turn around to face me and I preferred it that way, but she did stop walking. I sighed and let go of her bag, satisfied that she wouldn't run away for the moment. "You're right," I said again with some effort, "you saved my life and I'm acting like an ass. Thank you." Bella didn't answer, didn't indicate at all that she had heard me. I blew a breath out of my mouth. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It's just…" I thought of the day before, how Bella had resolutely refused to look at her family as they helped us from the wreckage, or how she freaked out only after she got that text message, or how her demeanor had shifted when her brother showed up. It was ridiculous; Bella had never given me any indication at all that she was the kind of girl who needed rescuing— on the contrary, so far _she_ was the one doing the saving. But just the thought that maybe she was hurting or afraid, panicked some part of me that I didn't know how to control. I stepped closer and lowered my voice. "Bella, if you're in trouble… we could talk to Charlie or something—"

Bella turned so suddenly that I stumbled back. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide. She stared at me hard, her eyes fixed on mine. I kept my mouth shut, caught in the intensity of her scrutiny. It felt as if we stood there for a long time before she closed her mouth with a snap. "Stay away from me, Edward," she said tonelessly. Now it was my turn to gape. "I don't want to hang out with you, I don't want to deal with your conspiracy theories, hell I don't want to talk to you period." Her voice was curt, but she rubbed brusquely at her face as if wiping away tears, even though her eyes were clear and dry. I reached out to touch her shoulder, startled by the sudden swing in her demeanor. She stepped smoothly out of my reach with a hard glare. "I mean it!" she said though her teeth, "_Stop _trying to save me. Go waste your time somewhere else." We stared at each other and I let my hand drop, trying in vain to understand what her words meant. Before I could wrap my mind around it, though, the bell rang, students flooded into the hallway, and Bella turned without another word, sliding easily into the crowd.

Bella didn't speak one word to me after that, barely even looked at me. I spent a week trying to reason with her, plead with her, apologize to her, but eventually, my sense of pride got the better of me and I went back to being irritated with her. The silent treatment was mutual after that. For a time, the silence that hung over our table in biology was more than a little hostile and when the bell rang to dismiss us, we both gathered our things with a lot of unnecessary slamming and left without a word. My friends didn't miss my new attitude towards Bella Cullen.

"So… are you and Isabella Cullen having a fight or something?" Angela Webber was a pretty girl who was quiet without being awkward or shy. From the looks on Jessica and Lauren's faces and Angela's obviously forced calm, it seemed that she had been nominated to broach the subject with me. I took a measured bite of my sandwich.

"No," I said after I had chewed at length and swallowed. "I mean, we only have one class together. I don't know her well enough to have a fight with her." I resisted the urge to steal a glance at the Cullen's table at the back of the room. I already knew what I would see. They always claimed a table for themselves where they sat silently and stared at nothing in particular. I flatly refused to acknowledge, even to myself, that I hoped to catch Bella stealing glances at me.

"Oh…" Angela fiddled with her spaghetti and shot Jessica a pleading look. Jessica executed some sort of eyebrow gymnastics that I suppose I was not meant to see. Angela sighed. "It's just that Mike said that you two look kind of… tense… during biology class—"

"What is it with you two?" Jessica burst out. Apparently, Angela's performance was not to her liking. "We thought that after the whole deal with Tyler and the van that the two of you would be…" Speaking? Able to make eye contact with one another? "I don't know, friends or something." I rolled my eyes, but managed to hold back the more scathing comments that came to mind.

"No," I said flatly. "The Cullens aren't really interested in friends are they?"

A wave of laughter flowed through the table at this, with Jessica and Lauren leading. My stomach did an uncomfortable little twitch and I let myself peek at the back of the lunch room. Bella was flipping through a book on the table, completely unaware of my existence. But Alice was frowning at me. We locked eyes and as clearly as I knew that Mike disapproved of how enthusiastically Jessica reacted to my joke, I knew that Alice wanted very badly to speak to me, but she wouldn't. My own frown grew and I looked away.

After a while, ignoring Bella and the rest of the Cullens stopped being an act of ire for me and became a habit. After all, if my lab partner was going to spend the semester pretending to be an empty chair or a stretch of wall, there was no point in spending energy treating her like a particularly offensive wall. I spent the rest of February making friends, finding a rhythm with Charlie, and building a life in Forks, something I'd never thought remotely possible before. Even before I moved in, back when I was just a kid, my parents had somehow forced a petit grand piano into the corner of my room for the summers when we would visit. I played it every night before I went to bed without knowing if I meant it as a memorial or a coping mechanism or just because my pride wouldn't let me fall out of practice. All I knew was that I was tired when I was done and Charlie never complained. Everything was working out. And then March rolled around.

"I might be sick…" Ben Cheny moaned and buried his head in his folded arms. I cocked an eyebrow at him and then glanced across the parking lot to the gaggle of twittering girls gathered around the back of Lauren Mallory's car. The level of testosterone and desperation at school had been going up steadily ever since they announced that the spring dance would be lady's choice. Two weeks ago, Tyler made a vain attempt at a fashionable haircut that left him looking like a poster for a nineties boy band. Mike spent all of last week casually mentioning how he'd started learning to play guitar. And I was finding it harder and harder to stomach my lunch.

"Relax," I said, paging lazily through a textbook. "Angela'll work up the nerve to ask you any day now." Ben's head shot up and he emitted a strangled sort of noise.

"How did you—"

"Mike," I said loudly as he ambled up to the table we were sitting at. Ben's face turned red and he shut his mouth. "Let me see your notes for Bio." Mike threw himself down onto the bench in a way that I'm sure he considered casual and debonair. It just looked painful to me. He rifled around in his backpack for a while before handing me a few sheets of crumpled paper. I sighed and began my attempt to decipher his hand-writing. The task kept me busy through the now-routine conversation about who would be asked by whom to the dance. I kept my mouth shut and my head down. If I was smart about it, I could play the next fifteen minutes casually, and then escape to my car without anyone mentioning…

"You turned down _Jessica?!"_ Fuck me. Tyler Crowley's voice was some strange combination of incredulous, offended, and impressed. I froze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mike do the same. Maybe if I ignored him, Tyler would take the hint and— "_Well? _Let's hear the details, dude! What were you _thinking_?"

"_Jessica_ asked _you_ to the dance?" Mike said darkly. Tyler gave a short, breathless laugh.

"What, you didn't know? Half of your biology class already knows. Sarah told me all about it. She said you smacked her down good."

"It _wasn't_ like that," I said, keeping my eyes on the notebook in front of me. If Tyler didn't shut up soon, Mike was likely to explode. Also, I resented the insinuation. No matter how much I hated the _idea_ of a date with Jessica Stanley, I'd never be _rude_ about it. "She asked me if I wanted to go and I let her know that I'm not going to be in town that weekend. That's it. It wasn't a big deal."

Tyler laughed again. "You've got some balls man. Do you know how many guys would kill to get _Jessica Stanley?_ I mean, Mike was just saying—"

"Yea, Edward, didn't Lauren ask you yesterday?" Mike said. _Fuck me._ "I heard you turned her down too."

Tyler made a choking sound that was a bit alarming. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Suddenly, a roar of laughter surged up from the parking lot. All three of us turned to look and saw Emmett Cullen doubled over with his hands on his knees. A second later, there was the sharp whine of Bella Cullen's motorcycle. The tires spun and she peeled out of the parking lot, which only seemed to make Emmett laugh harder. Another second went by and we all turned away from the scene.

"Look," I said, "Lauren mentioned that she was going and asked if I was going too. _It wasn't a big deal_." It looked like there was no effect. Both Tyler and Mike were glaring moodily at the table between us. I huffed and gathered my books without another word. I knew when to cut my losses. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," I muttered and stalked off to my car. I was so busy grumbling to myself that I jumped at the sharp rap on the window. I peered through, dropped my jaw, and then fumbled like the loser I am to slide the window down.

"Edward Masen, right?" Alice Cullen was barely five feet tall and all smiles. I nodded dumbly and shut my mouth. Her smile widened. "Can I bum a ride?"


End file.
